He’s right.
He has to be because it’s what everyone else says about me.
Except for Clover and Ellis, but they don't exist in my life anymore.
Because one is dead, and the other I ran away from. And I never should’ve done that. I never should’ve run away from Ellis.
Weight presses against the cavity of my chest as memories crush me. But then warmth erases the sensations as Clara wraps her arms around me and pulls me away from the darkness of my mind and toward the light of reality.
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” she says as she hugs me. “You’re so strong, Aves. You really are.”
I open my eyes, and the sunlight trickling through the window burns against my retinas. “No, I’m not. If I were, I’d have left him a long time ago.”
“I think we both know it’s way more complicated than that. And you survived. That makes you brave. You’re no longer with him, and you’re starting over. You’re so strong.”
Have I survived? Most days I feel like I’m living inside a locked room where all my secrets are smothering me.
But I let some of them out last night—I set them free.
So maybe I am surviving now.
I suck in a gradual breath and let it out before hugging her back. “Thank you for everything.”
“Always,” she replies, reminding me so much of Clover in that moment.
When she pulls away, I hurry and wipe a few tears away that have managed to escape my eyes.
“I’m so exhausted,” I tell her as she sits back down on the sofa.
“Me, too.” She glances at the time on the clock that’s perched on the nightstand. “We still have hours before we can go to that place. We should take a nap.” She wavers. “Unless you want to go get our stuff?”
I dither. More than likely, my mother will be home this early. Later, she might have something going on.
“Let’s get some rest and then we’ll figure out how to do that… I’m hoping my mother might have something going on tonight and we can go to the house while she’s gone.”
She crosses her fingers. “Fingers crossed.”
There were times in my life when I questioned if I was the problem in my family. That perhaps my parents were right, and I was the defective one. But I’m starting to realize that’s not the cause.
I’m not defective.
I've just been brainwashed to believe I am.
5
CLOVER
I’m fairly positive Jason is drugging me.
I’ve suspected it for a while but haven’t been able to come up with any proof other than when I start digging in my mind, picking at old, dried-up scabs of memories, I find droplets of images of me lying in a bed, totally out of it. A shadow of a figure is usually leaning over me, and while I can’t see their face, the scent of woodsy cologne matches the kind Jason wears.
Then comes the pinprick. After that, darkness swims in my mind.
Because of this, I should stay away from him. But I’m still chasing answers, like my body is chasing the next hit of whatever Jason is injecting into me. It’s an addictive drug. In the back of my mind, I know I should be concerned, that thisneedis so overpowering.
“You good?” Jason asks me over the music blasting through a stereo.
Nodding, I take a sip of my drink and scan the party from over the brim of the cup. Most of the people here are closer to Jason's age or older. I’d feel out of place, but that’s not really my style. I’ve always been able to adapt to situations, like when I was younger and had to adapt to my sudden shitty home life.
